Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  He waited at the last comment and let it sink in to the soldiers, marines and civilians. They represented only a small cross-section of society, yet even they seemed unsurprised at his words.

  “I see you have heard this before, and some of you probably from the dying curses of Zealot terrorists. What if I told you that every indication from the last two months suggests something is going to happen? That the surviving Zealots are working on something, in secret, that will make the uprising seem like nothing more than a diversion?”

  The last part really caught Spartan’s imagination. One thing he couldn’t argue with was that the War had concentrated the minds of all involved in one thing, victory. If somebody wanted a diversion, they couldn’t have done a better job.

  “Once I have finished my briefing to the Alliance Security Council, I will see what else our forces have managed to uncover. But I want you all to know that this kind of intelligence wouldn’t have been possible without the intervention by units such as yours. Units that have recovered schematics, Biomech plans and even brought in leaders like the criminal Chraige Attez,” he explained, without looking directly at any of the handful in the room that had taken part in the mission.

  Spartan knew full well who had done what, but it was in nobody’s interest to draw attention to any of them, even in this close circle of friends.

  “We will be picking up another group of scientists from the temporary research site at the Anomaly in seven hours. After that, we’ll take the short trip through the bridge and rendezvous with the other representatives for the conference. We will be there for sometime, and I expect you to speak your minds. Let it not be said that you had ideas but didn’t mention them, when it might have helped. Each of you has knowledge and experience since the War that will be critical in shaping our future. As members of the Alliance Special Operations Group, your advice will be invaluable. Thank you.”

  Major Daniels received a polite but slightly reserved applause as he stepped away from the podium and re-joined his security detail. A communications offer rushed up towards him to speak, and Spartan tried to understand what was happening. It was evidently important as the body language of the Major transformed in seconds. Teresa moved closer to Spartan and would have spoken but was cut off and interrupted by Sergeant Lovett, one of Spartan’s marines from the end of the War, who rushed towards him with the same urgency as the communications officer.

  “Lovett? I thought you left an hour ago on the shuttle. Aren’t you transferring home for two weeks?” asked Spartan in surprise.

  Lovett shook his head. His face betraying a bitterness that Spartan had seen so many times before. He reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “What is it?” he asked, almost dreading to hear the words.

  Lovett’s eyes were red, and it was clear some terrible tragedy must have just taken place. He leaned in towards his two friends and shook his head.

  “I was waiting on the shuttle when an instant communication arrived for me from High Command. It was about the Atlantic Star.”

  Teresa looked to Spartan with a quizzical look on her face. From what Lovett had said, she assumed she should know something about this ship, but it was a complete unknown to her. Spartan looked equally confused.

  “The Atlantic Star? Sounds like a passenger ship. What about it?”

  Lovett nodded at his suggestion and took a few deep gulps of air before continuing.

  “My fiancée was on the Atlantic Star, heading to Orthrus. The ship was hijacked three hours ago. It’s on the newsfeeds already, over a thousand dead.”

  “What? By Zealots?” asked Teresa.

  “No way of knowing, but they detonated the engines an hour later. The ship’s gone, no survivors. A rescue drone has been sent to assess the situation, but it looks like they didn’t even give them a chance to leave the ship.”

  “Bastards!” snapped Spartan. “I don’t get it. I thought the last Core controlled ships had surrendered at Carthago? What were they doing at Orthrus?”

  Lovett shook his head in disagreement.

  “Not all of them, no way. But they never made it to Orthrus. If they had gone that far, the planetary defence force would have stopped them in seconds.”

  He stopped and looked at the rest of the people in the room who were already dispersing. A few could see he was upset, but they were doing their best to pretend they hadn’t noticed. He looked back to Spartan.

  “No, this was while they were taking on fuel at the unmanned supply station orbiting Hyperion. There was no air cover. She was a private liner. The last transmission said a Zealot boarding party were on board. Next thing we hear, the engines are detonating. There wasn’t even time to issue a mayday.”

  Spartan didn’t know what to say, but Teresa, being more sensitive to people, moved closer and held him close. They’d spent months working alongside each other fighting for the Confederacy in its darkest hour. Even now, they still struggled against the remnants of the Zealots and their shrinking pool of supporters. He spotted movement and realised it was Major Daniels.

  “Lieutenant,” he said and then looked at other two, “Sergeants,” he said in a rush and looked back towards Spartan.

  “You and your NCOs in my quarters in ten minutes. We have urgent things to discuss. There have been developments.”

  Spartan nodded and saluted, and then the Major was gone. He looked back to Teresa and Lovett. Teresa raised an eyebrow in question; Lovett on the other hand seemed completely disinterested.

  “Come with me, this looks important. I bet it concerns the Atlantic Star.”

  With that single mention of the passenger ship, Lovett snapped out of his trance. He grabbed Spartan as he made for the door.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Spartan pulled his hand off his shoulder.

  “Not here, come on, we will find out soon enough.”

  Sergeant Lovett was still standing there when Spartan and Teresa left the briefing room. He watched them go before realising he was supposed to be with them. He shook his head and did his best to throw the thoughts from his mind and chased after them.

  * * *

  Spartan and his two Sergeants waited outside the door of the Major’s quarters for what seemed like an age. As always, there were two Alliance guards, both ex-marines, stood either side of the door. Unlike the other guards on the ship, they used standard issue L48 carbines. It was standard practice for those on ships to use special low velocity weapons that didn’t risk the innards or skin of the ship. These guards were the last defence for the commander, although safety concerns were secondary compared to protecting the commander of such a critical military unit. The guard to the left nodded to himself and then looked to Spartan.

  “You can go in.”

  He tapped the coded panel on the door, and with an almost discernible hiss, it slid open. Spartan stepped inside, followed closely by his Sergeants. Inside the room, the Major stood looking at a model of a ship on the computer display. The door shut behind them, and the three stood smartly to attention. Major Daniels turned from the model, a grim expression pervading his face.

  “At ease.”

  He looked to Sergeant Lovett first and did his best to look sympathetic.

  “I’ve heard the news and I’m sorry, very sorry. The Atlantic Star was due to bring a number of important people to Orthrus to assist in the rebuilding. The loss will be felt deeply.”

  He turned to the model and pointed to the engines.

  “I don’t know if you heard, but no hostages were taken. Contrary to the news reports, the attackers simply smashed a tug into the engines and a second into the propulsion powerplant. She went critical in seconds.”

  He turned back to the three and indicated for them to sit down. Spartan was no great fan of doing this, but the sombre occasion demanded it. Once comfortable, the Major tapped a button that removed the ship model and instead showed a map of the Alpha Centauri star system. Spartan had seen the map many ti
mes before but had never shown it much interest. Until the discovery of the Anomaly, the journey time between the two halves of the Confederacy had taken almost a year.

  “Alpha Centauri,” he said slowly while tracing the paths of the planets with his left hand.

  Unlike Proxima Centauri, it was a binary star system with a complex arrangement of planets and their many stars. With thirteen planets, of which only six had been colonised, it was still the oldest part of the Confederacy. The planets were much better developed than their equivalents in Proxima Centauri and considered by many to be the old, more conservative colonies.

  “While we were busy fighting the Union, most of these colonies managed to avoid the Uprising. They infiltrated high levels of military and political life years before the War. If you recall, once the fighting started, they initiated a blackout. Only one fleet of ships made it through to us before the Union were able to clamp down.”

  Spartan looked to Teresa as he tried to work out what the Major was getting at.

  We know all of this, why doesn’t he get to the point?

  Teresa smiled uncomfortably but changed her expression as the Major turned to look at her. The short pause worried her, but he hadn’t noticed and instead looked to Spartan.

  “I know none of this is news. Since the fighting on Terra Nova, we have received the formal surrender of all remaining Union forces. Political posts and positions of military command have been scrutinised, and we’re making progress. Without the Core, their ships, communications and Biomech support killed them overnight. This disturbing news about the Atlantic Star is a worry though. As I said in the briefing earlier, there are still plenty of Zealots left out there, and some have the support of the locals. We still don’t know how they were able to obtain the technology, equipment or knowledge to cause so much trouble, and I suspect there may be more to come. If one ship has been lost at Hyperion, it means they still have some ships.”

  He tapped the screen and zoomed in on the green planet.

  “High Command suspect the Zealots may have been operating from a hidden base on some of the uninhabited worlds here. It’s been low priority with the peace keeping operations most of our ground troops are now involved with.”

  He paused and waited for the three to speak. Spartan looked a little confused before realising the Major wanted their opinions. He cleared his throat before starting.

  “Well, Sir, this entire sector was infiltrated far deeper than Proxima ever was. They could have been running the entire operation from Terra Nova itself from the start.”

  The Major looked unconvinced by his reply.

  “It is possible, of course, but how were they able to come almost from nowhere in this sector? We have never understood how the Zealots became so powerful and so quickly. It is as if they were elsewhere for months, perhaps years before. Maybe there is something out there we’ve not discovered yet? A missing link, as you will.”

  Teresa lifted her head slightly, implying she had something to add. The Major nodded towards her.

  “We know where the Zealots were. They’ve been underground for a long time. We’ve seen how these movements form and expand. The power behind them, the reason why we lost so early on, was that they had access to massive numbers of Biomechs and ships.”

  Major Daniels nodded in agreement. “Like on Prometheus?”

  “Exactly, Sir. That complex was kept hidden for years, and they had the capacity to create multiple generations of biomechanicals for the war effort. One other site could easily have done the same in Alpha Centauri. Unless they just transported them through the Anomaly.”

  He switched the device off and sat down.

  “Anyway, this is all conjecture. I have discussed this at depth with High Command, and they have already decided that our sister ship, the Santa Maria, is being fitted out for a special mission to conduct a systematic sweep of every moon around the inner worlds, including Hyperion. They will be taking an escort, as well as enough troops and supplies to eliminate enemy ground forces, if and when they are located. The new government is being pushed to hunt down anybody associated with this recent outrage, and it looks like it will coincide with a major hunt in this sector. The operation could take months, and that’s why I called you three in.”

  Spartan knew what was coming, and he wasn’t surprised.

  “Lieutenant, they have everything they need, but they do have a need for a replacement reconnaissance troop.”

  Spartan was about to speak, but the Major lifted his hand.

  “No, before you say anything, it will not be you. This mission is important, but the rebuilding of the Alliance military is even more important. There is talk of shrinking the size of the fleet and relying more on local troops for combat operations. You have more experience than most of the senior command there, especially when it comes to operations against the Zealots and the Biomechs. I’ve a list of seven people already that want to speak with you about the fighting on Terra Nova itself.”

  Spartan shook his head angrily.

  “But, Sir, this is admin and politics, and you know what I’m like at both. My reports are already on file. They know what I think, and they know the problems we suffered with local forces and commanders. Surely my expertise is better needed on the Santa Maria mission.”

  Major Daniels stood up, indicating the discussion was coming to an end.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. My hands are tied. Your knowledge and experience is required at Terra Nova. You will select the best reconnaissance team available, and it is my recommendation that Sergeant Morato is considered to lead it. I will, of course, leave the decision to you.”

  He stood smartly to attention, and the three stood to face him. Spartan saluted and turned for the door. Major Daniels was already at his computer model of the system before they even left the room. Spartan nodded to the guards as he stepped out into the corridor and looked back at Lovett and Teresa.

  Dammit, so I stay for meetings and discussions on Terra Nova while my two best NCOs get to finish off the enemy once and for all?

  CHAPTER THREE

  The fall of Terra Nova marked a major shift in the path of the Zealots and their devotion to the Church of Echidna. With the Core destroyed and the Union torn apart, many returned home. Most were bitter and many blamed the new Alliance for their troubles. The first decades after the Uprising saw many feuds and reprisals occur throughout the old Confederacy. It was a hard and violent time but if it were not for the events at Hyperion the old troubles could easily have reignited.

  Origins of the Zealots

  Spartan looked out of the observation window and towards the shape of the planet below. The rotating of this part of the ship meant he had but a small period of time to watch before the planet moved from view. Those not used to it could become sick and disorientated but not him. Spartan had served on multiple ships with artificial gravity, and although they all left him with a sick feeling in his stomach, nothing caused as much pain as that blue green orb below.

  Terra Nova, I never planned on coming back.

  He thought back to his last visit and the violence of their landing. It had been the final act of the War, and a terrible full frontal assault on the planet itself. So many had died on both sides. Even the Jötnar, his implacable allies, had lost scores of warriors in that last, desperate rush to end the War. It reminded him of his Biomech friends, the Jötnar who had sided with the Confederacy and proven to be some of the most stubborn and trustworthy warriors they had access to. He had not seen them in months and was actually starting to miss his friends.

  Still, I’ll get to meet Khan on Terra Nova. That should be interesting.

  He smiled inwardly at the thought of the outspoken Jötnar warrior on the planet. He was even less politic than Ko’mandor Gun, their enigmatic leader and could be guaranteed to cause a scene. That was something Spartan was quite looking forward to seeing.

  “The next shuttle to the conference will leave in seventeen minutes. Please make your wa
y to the landing bay,” said a calm voice over the ship’s speaker system.

  Spartan glanced once more at the shape of Terra Nova as it whisked by and then walked away towards what many of them affectionately called the spiral. The people were waiting patiently as the rotating part of the ship moved along the central core. A number of long metal ladders ran the width of the section and appeared to move slowly around the core. A crewmember grabbed the metal and lifted himself up. He looked up and followed two more as they moved towards the rotating central core. Of course, in reality, the spokes and the rotating section were actually moving around the motionless central spindle. As they moved closer to the top, the spinning section appeared to slow down. It was all an illusion, however, as this part of the ship rotated at a complete three revolutions per minute. It was enough to create the same level of gravity as experienced back on Earth but was only used on the main habitation parts of the ship.

  “Sir, good luck with the conference,” said the burly sergeant waiting to help those climbing onto the spiral wheel.

  Spartan pulled up a few rungs before looking back.

  “Thanks, I can’t wait.”

  He continued to move along the ladder and quickly noticed the change in gravity. Each rung made him feel lighter as he moved towards the central core. He’d seen many a marine feel sickness at this point, and vomiting in low or near zero gravity was a sight he would have happily forgotten. A few more seconds, and he reached the central section. He pulled himself onto the platform and waited for a moment as he relished the feeling of weightlessness. The spokes extended out around him to the rim of the rotating section. He turned back to the cylindrical section and pulled himself along the tube-shaped structure. It didn’t take long for him to move through to the next part of the ship where the transport hangars were located. A young sergeant signalled to him from one of the larger craft.

  “Sir, this is yours.”

  Spartan nodded and continued to pull himself towards the vessel. It was a slow and complex procedure to transfer from the rotating section to the stationary parts of the ship, and usually only carried out when absolutely necessary. During combat operations, marines would often be stationed in the annex quarters, a number of zero-gee rooms in the next compartment over from the landing bay. It allowed them to transfer to landing craft and transports in seconds rather than minutes. He pulled himself inside the vessel and towards a seat near the port side window. Like the other dozen people already inside, he quickly fitted his harness. The last thing anybody wanted was somebody floating about when they hit the atmosphere and the gravitational pull of Terra Nova.